


She Woke Up in Panic

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-03
Updated: 2012-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-01 02:10:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nightmares plague people, and after a traumatic experience, it gets locked in your subconscious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Woke Up in Panic

**Author's Note:**

> Just a baby drabble.

"Jaaade~" A light, husky whisper floated through the air towards my bruised, battered and bloody body. My ears twitched towards the sound, and I picked up the scent of skin as black as night, slick and smooth against the cold wind. He was coming. He was coming for me and Dave and John and Rose and he would take them and kill them and of course leave me.

I had died before, and it was pain, but this was even worse, not being able to do anything no matter how much I screamed at him to hit me and not stab Dave, not break Rose, not warp so I would end up shooting John. He would never touch me and I would have to watch them die, over and over again in wails of agony.

The worst part was when he would come and kill them all and never touch me, but I hit him and hurt myself. But worse still, every time anything touched me it would entice the scars and deep bruises that had yet to heal. The emotional ones of the first part of the game.

The pain I felt. The screams of agony as he stabbed my friends. The grimaces trying to hide their thoughts and bear through it for me because they knew I had to watch and were rendered helpless. The blood staining my hands as I tried to bring them back. 

"Don't worry, I won't save all the fun for them, Jade."

\--------------

With an ear shattering scream of pain and fear, I jolted awake, sitting up straight on the bed, and my knuckles turned white from gripping the blankets in an iron clasp. My rifle was instantly allocated to my hands as I gripped it tightly in the panic that always set in when I awoke from a nightmare. And it was always the same nightmare. I could feel the hot, loud tears pour down my face and splatter on my lap, like the blood had done all those years ago. I began to shake violently, the gun rattling in my hands.

"Fuck, Jade. Another nightmare?" I looked down at where Dave lay on the bed, rubbing his eye sleepily. My sobs quieted down a little bit, realising that I woke him up yet again. As I tried to respond, tears caught in my throat, cutting me off from speaking. I collapsed down on Dave's chest as my arms quit from under me, my body wracking with sobs and shrieks against his strong, bare chest. I let out pained cries repeatedly, as I kept shaking and shaking in fear, feeling like I would throw up.

I lay there for a long time, sobbing and sobbing until his whole chest was wet with tears. And he just held me there tightly running his fingers lightly over my shoulder, clutching me close while I cried and wailed and dug my nails lightly into his chest, screaming in agony while he held me.

Dave, being the knight of time, had some advantages when it came to the nightmares I had. He sighed, reaching for his time-tables and slowing time down for a minute. His heart beat was slow and steady at that point, and my tears slowly subsided to the beat of his heart. 

I quieted down after a time, and soon slowly drifted off in a light shower of tears. He sighed, holding me close and whispering soft words into my ear, trying to keep my calm for the rest of the night. I never actually talked about what exactly happened in my dreams, but you had to imagine it wasn't pretty to have me wake up screaming each night. But I would wake up sometimes in the morning to see his pillows tear stained where he had seemingly cried himself to sleep, countless times. And if I ever heard him he blamed it on something else and wouldn't talk, trying to stay strong so he could make me feel safe, to remind me the game was over and I didn't have anything to worry about. And he tried to keep an open mind, like how some day things might get better.

But let's get real, what hope was there? Hope is a dead case with us.


End file.
